The Young Engineers in Colorado eBook

Tom discreetly repressed his desire to laugh.
Hazelton glided into the tent, grinning.

“Tom, be careful not to string Bad Pete so hard,
or, one of these days, you’ll get him so mad
that he won’t be able to resist drilling you
through with lead.”

“Let’s go over to the cook tent and either
beg or steal something to eat,” proposed Reade.

It was two hours later when a rodman rode hurriedly
into camp.

“Hey, you cubs,” he called, “come
and help me get Mr. Blaisdell’s bed ready for
him. He’s coming back sick.”

“Sick?” demanded Reade, thunderstruck.
“Why, he looked healthy enough when he went
out of camp a little while ago.”

“He’s sick enough, now,” retorted
the rodman.

“What ails Mr. Blaisdell?” asked Harry.

“It’s mountain fever, I reckon,”
rejoined the rodman. “Blaisdell must have
been off color for days, and didn’t really know
it.”

All three worked rapidly getting everything in readiness
for the coming of the assistant engineer. Then
Mr. Blaisdell was brought in, on a stretcher rigged
between two ponies. The acting chief is face
was violently flushed, his eyes seemed bright as diamonds.

“Reade,” said the acting chief thickly,
as they lifted him from the litter to his cot, “if
I’m not better by morning you’ll have
to get word to the chief.”

“Yes, sir,” assented Reade, placing a
hand on Blaisdell’s forehead. It felt hot
and feverish. “May I ask, sir, if you verified
any of the sights on Nineteen?”

“I—–­I took some of ’em,”
replied the acting chief hesitatingly. “Reade,
I’m not sure that I remember aright, but I think—–­I
think—–­you and Hazelton were correct
about that. I—–­wish I could—–­remember.”

Bill Blaisdell closed his eyes, and his voice trailed
off into murmurs that none around him could understand.
Even Reade, with his very slight experience in such
matters, realized that the acting chief was a very
sick man.

“You cubs better clear out of here now,”
suggested one of the rodmen. “I know better
how to take care of men with mountain fever.”

“I hope you do know more about nursing than
I do, Carter,” replied Tom very quietly.
“In the future, however, don’t forget
that, though I may be a cub, I am an engineer, and
you are a rodman. When you speak to me address
me as Mr. Reade. Come, men, all out of here
but the nurse.”

Once in the open Tom turned to Harry with eyes ablaze.

“Harry, could anything be tougher? The
chief away, the acting chief down with fever and on
the verge of delirium—–­and a crooked
engineer in our crowd who’s doing his best to
sell out the S.B. & L.—–­bag, baggage
and charter!”

CHAPTER XI

THE CHIEF TOTTERS FROM COMMAND

It was not like Tom Reade to waste time in wondering
what to do.

“Harry,” he continued, once more turning
upon his chum, “I want you to get a pony saddled
as fast as you can. You know that the telegraph
wire is being brought along as fast as it can be done.
This morning I heard Rutter say that it was hardly
five miles back of us on the trail. Get into
saddle, wire the chief at the construction camp, and
bring back his orders as fast as you can ride.”